


Neanderthal Facebook

by ObsessedtwibrarianOTB



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Flash Fiction, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedtwibrarianOTB/pseuds/ObsessedtwibrarianOTB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A note taped to a park bench has the potential to change his life. (965 words)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neanderthal Facebook

**Author's Note:**

> This was written off a prompt. We had to use these three words in our story: pale, paper, dawn.

“Dude, it’s just a random piece of paper, for Christ’s sake. You’re staring at it like it holds the secret to world peace or something. Just throw it away.”

He sighed, knowing he shouldn’t have shown it to his college roommate—whom he’d only known for a few short weeks—but at the time he’d felt compelled to share.

“I don’t feel right throwing it away. Whoever wrote this _wanted_ someone to read it or they wouldn’t have taped it to that park bench.”

His roommate laughed. “If you didn’t get up at the ass-crack of dawn every morning to run fifty bazillion miles, you wouldn’t have even found it. Seattle is the rain capital of the universe. That note wouldn’t have lasted until noon, if that.”

As far as he was concerned, that just showed he was _meant_ to find this small piece of someone else’s soul, fluttering in the breeze of an overcast Seattle dawn. It was only four words, but he couldn’t get them out of his mind. He traced the graceful curves of the letters with his eyes:

_Is anyone out there?_

He’d read the small piece of pale blue paper at least twenty times since he’d found it that morning. He wondered who wrote it and why. _And why do you care, when you have a twelve-page essay due in four days??_ He cared because he felt a kinship with this person, whoever they were. This anonymous soul had had the courage to actually write on that paper the terrible thing he hid inside of himself, the thing that cowered in the darkness of his own heart, terrified of discovery: loneliness.

The alcohol-driven life of a college freshman didn’t appeal to him; he felt more out of place here than he had back home. It was comforting to know that, somewhere out there, there was a guy or a girl—it didn’t matter which—who felt just as dislocated, just as alienated, as he did.

He didn’t have any nice stationery, so he had to settle for a yellow legal pad. _What are you going to say??_

His roommate’s mouth dropped open. “You’re not going to actually answer that, are you? Are you fucking insane??”

He probably was, but whatever. “It might turn out to be interesting, maybe something I can use for my Psychology paper. It’s like we’re doing the Neanderthal version of Facebook.” He shrugged. “We’ll just post our thoughts on a park bench instead of each other’s wall.”

“Dude, you need to get laid, or at least get drunk, because this is way weird.” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “And don’t call me to come rescue you when you get kidnapped by some butt-ugly chick who’s never seen a dick in her life, ‘cause I’m going to be busy.”

His roommate’s derisive laughter lingered in his mind long after he’d left. Was he desperate enough to strike up a park-bench conversation with a complete stranger? He wasn’t worried about the ugly part, but what if this person was unhinged? He was taking a chance, no doubt about it, but his mother had told him once that an unhappy life was nothing but a succession of missed opportunities piled on top of one another. He simply couldn’t throw that piece of paper away until he knew who had written it and why.

He thought for a long time about what he should write. He had a lot of things he wanted to ask, but whoever had written those words wanted an _answer_ , not questions. So, in the end, he wrote just two words:

_I’m here._

And because rain was in the forecast, he also wrote another note to tape on top of the bench: _Look underneath_. He would tape his two-word answer safely out of the rain’s clutches.

 

\------------------------------------------------------

 

_Do you cry at night?_

A light mist coated his clothes as he sat on the bench and read the five-word response; it hit him like a punch to the gut. No, he didn’t cry—not in the day or the night—because he was a man, and in his family, men didn’t cry. But he identified with the emotion behind the anonymous question. He may not have ever cried himself to sleep, but there were times his heart ached profoundly. He’d always felt ashamed of his internal whining, like he somehow didn’t appreciate the blessings in his life. There were people a lot worse off than him.

He answered: _I want to, but I don’t. I **can’t.**_   He wondered what the response to _that_ would be…

 

\-------------------------------------------------------

 

There was no answer awaiting him on the bench the next morning, and since he was suddenly lost in the chaos of trying to throw together a twelve-page essay at the last minute, he forgot all about his anonymous pen pal. Days went by; a temporary lull in his academic responsibilities allowed him time to refocus on the notes, but a pale blue response to his confession had yet to appear. He felt a strange sort of abandonment now, which was all kinds of pathetic. His roommate was probably right: he needed to get laid, and soon. Maybe that would take the edge off his emo.

Exactly eight days after he’d confessed on a park bench that he couldn’t cry, a slightly soggy note suddenly appeared:

_Do you like Nutella?_

The fog of a misty Seattle morning tried to muffle his laughter, but failed. The light-hearted question was just what he’d needed. Who _didn’t_ like Nutella?? He dug a pen, paper, and tape out of his drawstring backpack and quickly dashed off an answer:

_Yes!!_

When he read the note the next morning, he _knew_ he had to meet this person face-to-face:

_Then all is not lost. :)_

 


End file.
